


The Great Spelling Fiasco of 1914

by writing_addict



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Edward Elric Swears, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I guess???, Mid-Canon, Monster of the Week, One Shot, Parody, Sort Of, Typos, alphonse is a good kid, and this is what happened, but he's also a younger brother, but they're verbal typos so like, ive been watching game grumps to get through quarantine, roy is there at the very end but he's just like "y r u kids like this", take that as you will, the original character is a throaway rogue alchemist, this is the stupidest thing ive ever written but i think im hilarious so, which means mocking and teasing his big brother whenever he gets a chance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23461579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_addict/pseuds/writing_addict
Summary: “Stop laughing! Isn’t this supposed to just hit him in the chest and he’s gonna be like—aw, no, I fucked up!”"Eye fucked up, like E-Y-E?” Al joked, even as he subtly nudged Ed toward an unfamiliar shadow on the wall. He tracked it carefully, spear clutched in his hands just in case he made a break for it and had to resort to wildly stabbing and poking at everything that moved.Ugh.This particular ne’er-do-well wasn’t particularly tiring or dangerous, justannoying. Double ugh.Al was happy to put up with it (what else was he supposed to do?), but he knew Ed was going to rant about it for hours afterwards and all the way back to Eastern—and then yell at the Colonel about it.Ed scoffed as he aimed the gun again, tracking the shadow. “E-Y-E?” he said scornfully, and Al got a feeling—a sudden, wonderful feeling that somethingamazingwas about to happen, something he could use to annoy the train-ride rant he was anticipating right out of his big brother. “Al, that’sewe.”What.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric
Comments: 23
Kudos: 161





	The Great Spelling Fiasco of 1914

**Author's Note:**

> anyways this is just a short snippet bc im quarantined and bored and ive been watching the game grumpts play breath of the wild bc...nothing better to do, but this is just a funny moment that I couldn't help picturing as our favorite brothers! here's the clip I parodied: [The Great Spelling Fiasco of 2017](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8X9G2bdYus)

After all the insanity of…his life in general, Alphonse was pretty glad that their latest mission was just them versus some rogue alchemist who was trying to steal classified documents. No towns being turned into cults, no homunculi, no chimeras. Just good-old-fashioned terrible people making terrible decisions, and Ed and Al being sent out to deal with them. The guy was pretty slippery, though—his specialty was camouflage, and the only way to track him was through his eyes, the one part he couldn’t camouflage at all. He was sneaky and fast enough that Ed was the one going after him, dodging and weaving, while Al tried to track him and call out warnings.

Annoying, yes. But much, much easier than dealing with Envy or Lust—easy enough that they were able to keep up a conversation while fighting, which Al thought was rather nice. The rogue wasn’t looking to kill, after all, just escape, so they weren’t worried about any fatal attacks. They were just guarding information and trying to work out how to make him visible. The current method Ed had decided on was “throwing paint on top of the enemy to see if it makes a mark”, but the guy kept dodging, and Al couldn’t help but giggle at Ed’s steadily increasing frustration.

“What—oh, _fuck—”_ Al snorted softly as yet another blast from Ed’s quickly-transmuted paintball gun went wide. “Stop laughing! Isn’t this supposed to just hit him in the chest and he’s gonna be like— _aw, no, I fucked up!”_ Al swore he heard the rogue snickering softly as Ed transmuted more paint off the wall and rested the gun on his shoulder, scowling and looking like an angrier, much less lethal version of Lieutenant Hawkeye. “Oh, come on, you fucker, where _are_ you—"

“Eye fucked up, like E-Y-E?” Al joked, even as he subtly nudged Ed toward an unfamiliar shadow on the wall. He tracked it carefully, spear clutched in his hands just in case he made a break for it and had to resort to wildly stabbing and poking at everything that moved. _Ugh._ This particular ne’er-do-well wasn’t particularly tiring or dangerous, just _annoying. Double ugh._ Al was happy to put up with it (what else was he supposed to do?), but he knew Ed was going to rant about it for hours afterwards and all the way back to Eastern—and then yell at the Colonel about it.

Ed scoffed as he aimed the gun again, tracking the shadow. “E-Y-E?” he said scornfully, and Al got a feeling—a sudden, wonderful feeling that something _amazing_ was about to happen, something he could use to annoy the train-ride rant he was anticipating right out of his big brother. “Al, that’s _ewe.”_

_What._

Al stared at his brother in total disbelief, completely forgetting the mission, the rogue alchemist, the frustration of being unable to catch said slippery rogue alchemist. _No. He’s messing with me, right? He has to be._ A sort of unholy, little-brotherly glee started to rise in Al’s chest. If he were human, he knew he’d be grinning like a maniac, but all he could do right now was stare at his brother in some sort of morbid awe. “Are you serious right now?” he asked, eyes bright with hope. _Oh my god, he doesn’t realize. He has no idea. This is gonna be the greatest accomplishment of my entire fourteen years, oh my GOD._

Ed huffed. “Of course I am.”

_Holy. Fucking. Shit._

“E-W-E is ewe, Brother.”

Ed shot him a quizzical look, firing off another blast from the paintball gun and missing horribly (Al really needed to remind him to go to the shooting range with Lieutenant Hawkeye, he knew his brother didn’t like guns, but accuracy was a useful skill, right?). “No, E-W-E—” the color drained from his face, and Al wanted to dance with victory as his condescending smugness turned into a panicked, “Shit, my bad—”

“Oh my _god,_ Brother—”

His brother went from ghostly pale to impossibly red, and Al could feel himself lighting up, his body grinning brightly wherever it was at the sheer opportunity to do what little brothers were _supposed_ to—mock their older siblings _relentlessly._ “Yeah, well, whatever, Al, I just misheard you and mis-thought—”

“You did _not_ mishear me,” Al accused gleefully, poking his brother with the blunt end of the spear and giggling when he ducked under it and glared weakly at him. “You _repeated_ what I said, so you totally—”

“I did not—”

“Misspelled it—”

“I did _NOT!”_

_“A THREE-LETTER WORD!”_

“I—I KNOW!” Ed shrieked, finally hitting the rogue (who Al suspected was as dumbfounded at his brother’s momentary lapse in basic spelling and phonetics as he was, if not as gleeful and excited). “I’m _EMBARRASSED!”_

“You wanna try spelling _the?”_ Al ribbed, poking at his brother with what felt like the widest grin he’d ever experienced. He crossed his eyes and made a vague imitation of his brother’s voice as Ed spluttered in horror and embarrassment. “What’s this word? T- _teeee—hh-hhheeeee—”_

He dissolved into giggles again as Ed started laughing before shooting him his best attempt at a stern look. “Y-you— _shut up!_ I’m sorry, alright, I got all flustered fightin’ this stupid alchemist—” he aimed another paintball blast as the man scrambled out of the way, dripping white paint everywhere—“And—and I had a momentary _lapse_ in spelling—”

“I am _never_ going to let you live this down,” Al declared with all the earnestness of a little brother who had found something he could mock his older brother about for the rest of _time._

_“Nooooo,”_ Ed whined, even as he bolted after the rogue alchemist. “Aw, damnit…”

Al snickered, running after him with a laugh. “And when I say _let,_ I mean _L-E-T_ let!” he called.

“Isn’t that _leet—_ no, I’m just kidding.” Ed’s look was less exasperated, more amused, and Al couldn’t help laughing even harder as he hurried to catch up.

“And when I say _you,_ I’m talking about _Y-O-U—_ not _E-Y-E,_ as you seem to spell it.” He caught up to him and elbowed him lightly with a giggle. “Which is just embarrassing, considering we’re from a town of sheep farmers, Brother.”

Ed glared at him, before shooting another blast after the rogue as they chased him down the hall. It missed, but orange splattered off the wall and speckled the man’s invisible form, and his brother scowled again. “What the hell is this guy’s deal?”

“Don’t change the subject, you can’t spell eye.”

“I’M TRYING TO FIGHT THIS FUCKER!”

“You can’t spell _eye!”_ Al repeated gleefully. “Wait ‘til I tell Winry—”

“I—I _CAN,_ DAMNIT, I JUST SAW IT IN MY HEAD AS E-W-E, I HAVE PROBLEMS WITH THAT, ALRIGHT?”

Al burst out laughing all over again, momentarily glad for his metal body—it meant he could still keep up with the fight without getting winded by giggles the way he used to when Ed would cheat during sparring matches and tickle him. “The only way it could’ve been worse is if I was trying to spell _I_ as in the letter!”

At that, Ed’s flustered look dissolved into laughter, and he bent over double to catch his breath. “Oh—my _god—I’m SORRY,_ okay? Gimme a break, I’m fighting this guy who’s trying to steal all this super-secret military stuff, I’m a little d _istracted—”_

“I just love the idea,” Al said thoughtfully, “of my body in the Gate just like— _watching_ this incredibly intense and dramatic chase, and I’m just sitting up there with the Truth shitting on your grammar and spelling.”

Ed laughed even harder, hands resting on his knees. “Y-yeah, well—w-whatever, man—”

“Distracting you as you get angry, and like, slaughtered.”

“Yeah, but then I’ll lose or like, die or whatever!”

“Die?” Al repeated innocently as he reached out and grabbed the rogue by one paint-printed arm. _“D-E-W-E?_ Not a chance, Brother!”

His brother giggled, before giving him another attempt at a stern, grumpy look that fell totally flat, which only made Al laugh more. “Al, you’re _a_ asshole.”

“Can you spell Al?” he teased. “I know words under three letters long are your blind spot!”

Ed blinked at him, still frantically trying to suppress his smile, before drawing himself up indignantly. _“SPELLING TAKES A LOT OF MIND!”_

Colonel Roy Mustang didn’t know what to do when the Elrics stumbled back into Eastern Command, Alphonse laughing like a madman while Ed bickered one-sidedly with him, but he decided to leave it at that. _Must be a sibling thing._

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all found that funny in this time of quarantine and crisis! this week's chapter of cataclysms and catalysts will be out this afternoon. leave a comment and/or a kudos if you liked it, and i'll see you soon! happy reading <3


End file.
